None Of Your Business

HERE IT IS: THE LONG AWAITED PEARL CATALOGUE!!

Laboriously designed and created just for you, a spectrum of 42 different pearls to stand around and hold your stuff for you. Which one’s your favorite?

Also a bonus renegade

Clark and Lois loved their darling. Truly. You were a gift from the universe. A present tailored just for them to cherish and pamper.

If only you saw it like that too.

“I’m going to be honest here, I'm one second away from crashing the fuck out.”

“Language, baby.”

You glared at Clark, and he winced at your hostility. The tips of his ears burned red, and he awkwardly waved his hand for you to continue. “You guys kidnapped me and brought me to a farm out in the middle of nowhere.”

“I wouldn’t say kidnapped.” Lois interjected, and unlike Clark, she didn’t flinch when you glared at her. Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose, desperate to gather what little patience you had left.

Eight months. More than half a year spent unknowingly digging your grave. You trusted them. They'd become central pillars in your life, the couple who lived across the hall. Clark and Lois, your safe people. They'd infiltrated your life. Fuck. You had played straight into their hands.

“Clark brought me here unwillingly, and now you two are refusing to let me leave.” You stared at her, unimpressed. Wasn’t she supposed to be the one with the brain cell? “I'm pretty sure that’s considered kidnapping.”

“She's got a point.” Clark mumbled, and Lois sighed in defeat.

“Okay, so maybe we kidnapped you.” She conceded sheepishly. You'd never seen her so flustered, with her cheeks all rosy, and she couldn’t even look you in the eye. It was so unlike her. “But we did it out of love,” she added, as if that made it any better.

Holy shit. They were crazy.

“Where am I?”

You were on a farm; you knew that for certain. The sprawling fields that lay beyond the nearest window cued you to that. You were aware Clark grew up in a small town. He’d mentioned it more than once when speaking about settling down with Lois. Smallville, was it?

Oh, Irene. You really were stuck in the middle of nowhere with them. Alone.

Clark seemed to perk up at your question; his eyes lit up and his lips twisted into the radiant smile you learned to adore. “You know that personal project I was talking to you about?” he asked, and you nodded, because of course you'd heard about it. He'd been talking about it for months. “Well, this is it.”

Your brow pinched together in confusion as he gestured to the surrounding room, and it took a few moments for it to click. “You built a farm?”

Standing beside Clark, her hand clasped tightly in his as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Lois nodded. “He built a farm,” and although she acted exasperated, the fondness in her eyes told a different story. “Although I was the one who decorated the place.” She added, albeit a bit too smug for your liking.

You couldn’t help but take a quick glance around the room, your curiosity finally outmatching your wariness. It certainly looked tailored to your interests, comfy and cozy. Not even the lights were on; instead, a lamp perched on top of a nightstand shrouded the room in warm light.

“We made sure the house was suitable for all of your sensory issues and needs,” Clark spoke up, and you didn’t have to look at them to know they were both smiling like idiots watching you take in your new home.

You didn’t know whether to be impressed by their dedication, flattered, or terrified. To be honest, your emotions were all out of whack ever since you'd woken up. It buzzed beneath your skin, a pain you couldn't describe.

“How the hell did you get the money to build a farm?” You knew damn well that their salaries as journalists were mediocre at best.

“Clark’s sugar daddy funded it,” Lois shrugged.

“For the last time, honey, Bruce is not my sugar daddy—” For a moment Clark’s voice threatened to rise, but he immediately reeled himself back in. He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath and letting his shoulders slump as he exhaled. “Bruce is my friend. That’s it.” He sighed, and automatically Lois's hand squeezed his, a grounding technique you'd seen in use several times before.

“We know, sweetheart, I was just teasing.”

You rolled your eyes at the couple’s obnoxious cuteness and turned your back on them, letting your eyes scan over the rest of the room in silent interest. You wondered what the rest of the house looked like. Vaguely, you could hear Clark and Lois whispering behind you, their low words nothing more but static to your ears.

“Do you think she'll like the ring?”

“I'm sure she will.”

You don't notice when the pair go silent behind you, too lost in your thoughts to be fully aware of your surroundings. For all you knew, the world around you didn’t exist, not in that moment.

“Uh,” Clark gently nudged his lover's shoulder and nodded toward you. “I think she got lost in her mind,” he mumbled, and the woman beside him nodded with a small hum of agreement. It wasn't uncommon for you to lose yourself in your thoughts. It was a work in progress.

“We should give her some time to rest. Let her mind process everything.”

tragic that his favorite hobbies (eating you out on your period and creampie-ing you during your fertile window) are so incompatible.

tw - period sex, lactation, implied non/con.

ahhh i see your vision,,, may i suggest splitting the period yearning vs the period devastation between dick and his lovely sister cassandra to help ease this burden? i think dick is definitely a strong "i'll make you a mommy" type whereas cass is much more of a "i'm gonna make you into my mommy" type. ideally, dick spends your ovulation cumming inside of you whenever he has a chance, withholding your birth-control and complaining that even the xxl condoms are ""too tight :(((", and when your period miraculously arrives a few weeks later, cass gets to swoop in and ease your cramps with her tongue while dick has his nth mental breakdown over failing to knock you up. it's a win-win.

the only downside is that she was really looking forward to helping you practice when you started lactating :(( but there's no need for you to actually have a baby and replace her to do that :) a few pills from tim's lab and you'll be begging her to nurse. dick likes it, too, likes being able to pretend he's got a happy little family on the way even if your stubborn body keeps crushing his dreams. this way, everybody gets what they want.

➤ summary : he realized that you are from another world.

yandere male lead once proudly claimed that he was the one who knew you the best.

you were his childhood friend, the two of you grow up together. so, it was only given that he knows you more than you knew yourself.

he started noticing the changes in your behavior when the two of you entered the academy. how your favorite foods had changed, your personality as well as how you treats him.

yandere male lead who was used with you following him around. confessing every time on how much you love him. but then, you started giving him cold shoulder and avoiding him as much as you can.

you started flinching whenever he calls your name and avoiding his gaze whenever he looks at you. at first, he laughed it off. thinking that it was only a joke, he decided to play along.

but when you forgot his birthday, the day the two of you had met for the first time. that was the time yandere male lead had enough of your nonsense.

this guy is willing to give you anything and play along with your games. but this? this is the only thing he cannot tolerate.

so, he decided to barge to your dorm. only to find out that you were not there. he was about to leave and find you when a certain book caught his attention.

it was your journal.

opening it, he decided to read its content. he was totally not invading your privacy. he just need something to keep him entertained while he waits for you.

but what he saw there was something he never expected.

you kept on mentioning a novel about him and that "female lead" or rather the student council president. according to your journal, you were that novel's side character, his childhood friend, who is destined to die on his hands after he got tired of you.

hmm, at first he thought that you were just trying to justify yourself for avoiding him. because there was no way he would kill you- i mean, how could he when he was too down bad for you.

but then, he decided to test whether what was written inside this journal and left your room along with it.

and a few days, he realized that you were indeed saying the truth. because there was a certain event you written inside your journal happened to him.

and it was getting locked with that self proclaimed female lead where she confessed her feeling towards him. that was the time yandere male lead decided to take this matter on his own hand.

at first, you thought that his crazy ass had finally left you alone since he had stopped giving you that "how long do you think you can avoid me, brat?" look everytime you see him.

and much to your joy, the female lead also transferred school. finally! finally! you can now finally have the peaceful life you had wanted.

completely unaware that the female lead "transferring" of school was a part of yandere male lead's scheme.

but then, a few months after that. you found yandere male lead inside your dorm. calmly sitting in your bed with a smile.

you were scared, but you decided to muster up all your courage and ask him why he was there.

instead of answering, yandere male lead had brought out a video recording device and showed it you. seeing what was on the video, your face became pale as a paper.

yet, he didn't care. because on yandere male lead's perspective. this video was the "evidence" that he had finally eliminate the source of your fear.

the video showed the female lead tied in a chair on dungeon while getting tortured. you swallowed, looking to yandere male lead who only smiled and step closer to you.

yandere male ead touched your cheeks with a crazed smile. he explains that he understood the reason why you started avoiding him and he had finally dealt with the problem now.

so, the only thing left is making sure that you will never leave or avoid him again. because even yandere male lead doesn't know what he might do once his patience finally ran out.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

“ now that i've dealt with the only thing you were actually afraid of, you don't have any more excuses to keep avoiding me, do you? ”

I highly recommend watching this testimony from Aliya Rahman, the disabled woman who was dragged out of her car and kidnapped by ICE on her way to a doctor appointment in Minneapolis a few weeks ago.

Thank you members, for taking the time to be here today, and thank you staff for making this happen.

My name is Aliya Rahman, and I am a resident of South Minneapolis. I am a Bangladeshi American born in Northern Wisconsin. And I’m a disabled person with autism and a traumatic brain injury.

Not all autistic brains do this, but mine fixates on sounds, numbers, and patterns. And while what the world saw happen to me exactly three weeks ago today on video was a terrible violation it is still nothing compared to the horrific practices I saw inside the Whipple center.

So I am here today with a duty to the people who have not had the privilege of coming home, and I offer this data because these practices must end now.

On January 13th on the way to my 39th appointment at Hennepin County’s traumatic brain injury center, I encountered a traffic jam caused by ICE vehicles and no signs indicating how to get around it. I had not wanted to pull in to a blocked, chaotic intersection, but verbally agreed to do so and rolled down my window after an agent yelled, “Move! I will break your f-ing window!”

His first instruction.

Agents on all sides of my vehicle yelled conflicting threats and instructions that I could not process while watching for pedestrians.

Then, the glass of the passenger side window flew across my face.

I yelled, “I’m disabled!” at the hands grabbing at me and an agent said, “Too late.”

I felt immersed in a pattern, and I thought of Jenoah Donald, an autistic black man killed by the police during a traffic stop in 2021.

I remembered mister Silverio Villegas González, who was killed by ICE in his vehicle last year.

An agent pulled a large combat knife in front of my face, which I thought was for cutting me, and later learned was used to cut off my seat belt. Shooting pain went through my head, neck, and wrists when I hit the ground face first and people leaned on my back.

I felt the pattern, and I thought of mister George Floyd, who was killed four blocks away.

I was carried face down through the street by my cuffed arms and legs while yelling that I had a brain injury and was disabled. I now cannot lift my arms normally.

I was never asked for ID.

Never told I was under arrest.

Never read my rights.

And never charged with a crime.

Approaching the Whipple center, I saw black and brown bodies shackled together, chained together, being marched by yelling agents outdoors. I continued to hear the word “bodies”, because that is how agents referred to us:

“We’re bringing in a body.”

“They’re bringing in bodies 7, 8 at a time, where do I put ‘em?”

“We can’t use that room, there’s already a body in there.”

You have no reason to believe you will make it out alive if you’re already being called a body.

Agents repeatedly had to stop and ask how to do tasks. I received no medical screening, phone call, or access to a lawyer. I was denied a communication navigator when my speech began to slur. Agents laughed as I tried to immobilize my own neck. I asked for my cane and was told no, pulled up by my arms and prodded forward in leg irons by agents laughing and saying, “Walk! You can do it, walk.”

Agents did not know if the facility had a wheelchair.

When I was finally placed in one to be taken to interrogation an agent taunted, “You were driving, right? So your legs do work.”

I pleaded for emergency medical care for over an hour after my vision had become blurry, my heart rate went through the roof, and the pain in my neck and head became unbearable.

It was denied.

When I became unable to speak my cellmate pleaded for me.

The last sounds I remember before I blacked out on the cell floor were my cellmate banging on the door, pleading for a medic, and a voice outside saying, “We don’t wanna step on ICE’s toes.”

When I opened my eyes at Hennepin County’s emergency room, I learned I was brought there to be treated for assault.

The impacts of DHS detention on my physical, mental and financial well-being and safety have been very severe, but I do not deserve more humane treatment than anyone else, US citizen or not. And I am here today with a strong spirit and a duty to the many people who haven’t had the privilege to tell their stories or see their loved ones come home. I am extremely distressed by the pattern that violence from law enforcement has been happening to black and indigenous communities for centuries, and to DHS survivors for over 20 years.

We call ourselves a civilized nation, but we lack rules and accountability around what a person claiming to be law enforcement is permitted to do to another human being.

Yandere!Emperor abruptly and unexplainably wakes up in modern times along with his trusted servants. He does not know what is happening, nor is he particularly concerned, as there are more pressing matters at hand: where is his morning tea, and why are there people touring his grand chamber? They're pointing bright lights at him, mouths open in awe. He marches down the hall, passing large signs claiming "historical facts about the palace". A chronology. Shockingly realistic paintings. Are those his favorite shoes locked in some sort of glass box?!

Yandere!Emperor cannot remember much, but he knows one thing for certain - he was in the middle of marriage negotiations. He scans the masses who've invaded his privacy, and finally lands his eyes on you, an unfortunate museum visitor. He nonchalantly pulls you by the wrist, as if you've known each other for years, and leads you away.

"Get rid of these peasants just...strutting around," he barks towards his servants. "As for you, I hope you've picked a wedding outfit by now."

You gawk in confusion. You don't know this man, and you suspect this kind of act is a tad too direct to be part of some audience game. His garments don't look like cheap cosplay, either.

"What the hell are you talking about," you finally blurt out, stopping in your tracks.

The royal glares at you, visibly annoyed by your stubbornness, and gestures towards one of the servants. The archaic-looking aide retrieves a scroll from his sleeve, handing it to the man currently keeping you hostage.

"Very well, then, if you want to play forgetful, read it!" He stretches out the paper and shoves it in your face. "Take your time, maybe repeat it out loud a couple of times; remembering important matters doesn't seem to be your strong suit."

You huff at his cheap insults, then scan the words. Why, yes, he does have a point: your family name is right there, big and bold. That can't be right. You begin to wonder if you've previously clicked on one of those scam websites, when it finally occurs to you.

"Wait a damn minute, that's my great-grandparent!"

Oh no, you won't be pulling these childish games on him. You are his promised consort, carefully chosen by his men as his one ideal soulmate. Enough nonsense for a day.

Sequel to this very ugly Johann drawing I made last year. Previous drawing under the cut.

Full image under da cut

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